Britney

Can't get around the news, that you’ve slipped away, dollars tell the truth, you stepped off the Metro, finished up your day, left us on the stones, I haven't got a clue, what in heaven's name, we’re going to do, everything the kids call home, doesn’t seem the same, dogs are well rid of you, I sing hopeless tunes, trapped within their gaze, everything turns blue, you just went for broke, as if it was some game, who will pay the loans, If I’m a bitter fruit, I’ll set it on your plate, now that we’re going, to cross an Ocean again.